


A Scientist Is Always Fine

by master_riku



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, a-spec feels, ienzo-centric, nd feels about sex, science thoughts, sensory overwhelm, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22301503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/master_riku/pseuds/master_riku
Summary: A scientist is always fine, but perhaps...fine isn't always good enough. Perhaps sometimes, it's okay to need more.
Relationships: Ienzo & Riku (Kingdom Hearts), Ienzo/Riku (Kingdom Hearts), rienzo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	A Scientist Is Always Fine

**Author's Note:**

> a short, sweet rienzo oneshot that i wrote up in discord awhile back and finally cleaned up to post. i projected a lot of ace nd feels onto my boy ienzo, which is just the way i like this ship.

Ienzo bites his lip.

He is a _scientist._ His brain works in logical patterns of thought. Not unbending, but rigid, defined, purposeful. Aware. He knows this about himself.

A sharp inhalation through the nose follows his action, teeth digging a little harder into the flesh of his lower lip. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to light a spark of pain. Unfortunately, that spark doesn't detract so much as _add_ to this equation.

Scientists are good at analysing. _Ienzo_ is good at analysing. Straightening out the tangled webs of human experience and laying them out into neat, even rows of understandable data. But right now...

Tingling and brilliant, that spark zips back and forth across Ienzo's awareness, grows and spreads out to meet the goosebumps already prickling his arms where they lay motionless on the bed at his sides, hands balled into fists.

"You good, 'enzo?"

Ienzo barely even registers the question; he's lost in the deep voice. Quiet, with kind undertones, amusement playing around the edges as it falls softly over him and dusts his cheeks a deeper shade of pink.

When he fails to answer, Riku asks again, hands coming to a halt. They're warm against Ienzo's thighs, but with the tracing patterns of touch no longer ghosting up and down the sensitive skin, Ienzo at least stands a chance at hearing him. As soon as he can think, that is, past the feeling of the _rest_ of Riku weighing down his legs and pressing him comfortingly into the sheets.

He should do some research later, perhaps: why _is_ pressure such a turn-on?   
  
Riku is patiently waiting for an answer. Ienzo pulls himself with some effort back to the present, to the here and now that his mind constantly works to escape. _Now_ is the most fascinating time of all, but it's the one he has the most trouble accessing, once the sensory overload hits.

He doesn't look up at Riku, but he gets a fleeting impression of teal eyes crinkling at the corners--a memory, carved with repeated exposure into his expectation of reality; an assumption, deduced from a too-easy set of present cues.

Decisively, he lets go of his lip and feels the blood rush back into it, feels it swelling slightly under his tongue's automatic soothing, tasting of warmth and iron and, for just a moment, clamouring for attention above everything else.

Riku needs an answer.

_"Yes."_

The single word is difficult to verbalise, but in spite of the breathy quality of his voice, in spite of the way the rough, syllabic esses grate along his tongue, the afterimage of it is a perfectly capitalised imprint on the back of Ienzo's eyelids.

The words are a catalyst.

In one sudden, hot moment, understanding explodes into sensation and leaves Ienzo gasping.

Warmth and motion and texture and pressure, not just on his cock but flooding through him, becoming something _more,_ pulling his consciousness further into his body in preparation for free-fall.

Riku's mouth is...is...

But, how would he even know it was Riku's mouth if he wasn't already aware? The question suddenly nags. Would he recognise the same tongue that gives him so much sass when he works late? Would that paradoxically calm spitfire, that cheeky wisdom translate somehow to this physical plane? Would something about the slow licks, the consuming heat be familiar?

Would Ienzo _really_ know this mouth anywhere? These hands, that touch?

The same care and determination and intention behind each motion that Riku brings to every aspect of their relationship, was it truly present even now, in some recognisable format, some calculable layout?

Or is that all mere romantic conjecture?

Ienzo feels vaguely that he should be cataloguing these things, writing them down for future study, but before he can do much more than grasp, the fractals of his thought patterns fracture and whirl out of control.

At the end of the day, what Riku's mouth is, is _amazing._

 _Riku_ is amazing.

That's all there is to it.

Ienzo is a mere vessel of observation, now--no, a _container_ to be filled with sensation until he overflows. So he does his best not to move, not to react aside from the growing heat evident in his heaving chest, lest he startle himself with his own noise. He strives to just to take in everything.

Fingertips, digging into his thighs, his hips, thumbs caressing in small circles he can still feel separately, intricately. Building pressure under every dip of Riku's head and every swirl of his tongue with a texture so noticeably different it almost overwhelmingly quickly tugs him toward some plane further on. Humming vibrations when Riku groans as if _he's_ the one receiving pleasure.

And _\--oh._ _Vibrations._

That's ultimately what does him in and all the buildup is over. Just like a snapping rubber band, a sharp moment of tension and sudden, convulsing relief. It almost seems too fleeting, until another wave hits and Ienzo hears a belated moan dragged out of his own throat, carrying the rest of reality with it into a heady fog.

He floats there, somewhere beyond time, until time collapses in on him again in a rush and he finds himself exactly where he was before. Stretched out on the bed, in his own body, this time sated and panting and...open. Vulnerable. Perfect.

His mind is finally quiet.

Somehow Riku ends up stretched out next to him and Ienzo blinks foggily at the other man, a small smile finding its way to his lips. An answering one suffuses him with a unique feeling of relief that he only feels here, in these moments.

There's a different kind of warmth, too, in the arms that pull him close against that solid chest. It's something to stave off the emptiness that always curls up inside him when he floats back down, blissfully free but terrifyingly untethered.

Ienzo sighs softly as he shifts and nestles into the right position, sweaty blue hair falling to the side, to be dealt with at some future time, hands finally unclenching to lay flat against familiar soft skin.

"Better, now?" Riku's voice is even quieter than before, low and sweet in his ear."As usual," Ienzo responds.

He is a _scientist._ Years of training in data-gathering, of taking pride in the keenness of his observations, all rendered meaningless in a wash of pure feeling.

And he loves it.


End file.
